MV Winter 2023 Page 2

31 Jan

REFLECTION ON BEING A SEVENTH-DAY ADVENTIST

In

During one of my recent presentations, the interviewer posed the question: Do you consider yourself a liberal or conservative Seventh-day Adventist? Momentarily, the spontaneous and direct question stopped the flow of my thoughts, steering them toward in-depth personal cogitation. 

First, I wouldn’t say I appreciate being labeled. The confrontational nature of comparable questions reverts my mind into defensive alertness—a space of fear of being exposed to the darts of criticism, stifling the freedom to think freely and creatively. However, this momentary hiatus elicited soul-searching rumination on my beliefs, particularly my understanding of God’s self-revelation through Jesus as applied to my life’s journey.  

Second, the notion of conservatism scares me, as it tends to view the pathway of faith from a retrospective perspective that confines God to doctrinal expressions locked in time, a space of assumed security so often submerged in static boundaries of human assumptions, rather than a dynamic mystery of God who acts according to His will and mercy. As Quartey argues, “The core idea of conservatism—together with its close cousin, fundamentalism—is preservation: holding on to an idealized past in hopes of transmitting it “unadulterated” to future generations.” 1  The focus on preservation induces conservative, safeguarding, and replicative attitudes governed by the spirit of hegemony to secure established beliefs through compliance and control.

Consequently, the named qualities mold the progressive dynamism of faith into static informative expressions detached from its relevance to contemporary life. Simultaneously, the spirit of safeguarding generates an addictive power over what often is rationalized as the required capacity to defend the truth—a stance to “preserve a pristine or desirable past.” 2 

In contrast, my spiritual journey prompted me to engage with the progressively changing world in its social, cultural, environmental, and political domains. It empowers me to discern God’s presence in the turmoil of my doubts, failures, pain, disappointments, shouts of whys and scary moments of loneliness to understand His silence. This is my world, the world of today, the world embracing my life—a thirst to know and understand that God moves beyond the need to ensconce beliefs in the iconic vestiges of the past and habitual religious practices that tend to shape the patterns of religious addiction, i.e., habitual practices and rituals removed from the pathway of my struggles. 

Dale S. Ryan and Jeff VanVonderen described this space quite adequately: “At its root, religious addiction begins when our faith stops being about a spiritual connection with God and becomes instead an attempt to control our lives—or to control God—by behaving in certain ways.” 3  In that sense, I’m not a conservative Seventh-day Adventist, but I’m respectfully appreciative of my heritage and beliefs for another reason.

I connect with the story of the Seventh-day Adventist movement, which shaped the pioneers’ faith and recaptured inspirational experiences encoded in the narratives, rites, and images that transmit the passion of lives once lived—stories associated with struggles to understand God in the context of the pioneers’ time and culture. For this purpose, I immerse my thoughts in the memory lane of time. On this point, Halas defines memory’s fascinating and dynamic nature and function: “Memory consists of communicative acts transmitting reflexive knowledge about the past from the perspective of a future present.” 4  

Her view’s significance rests in the fact that this proposal no longer defines memory as turning exclusively toward the point in time locked into the distant past. It also highlights its dual function. She proceeds to make a compelling point: “Memory cannot be reduced only to a set of ideas about the past because it is linked with action and, thus, with an orientation toward the future.” 5 In her understanding, the ensuing reflexivity is not merely a static recollection of past events and beliefs, but rather a memory that determines “the transmission of meanings which will be formative for the future.” 6 For a moment, let’s review the story of how the past relates to the present in the context of a lived experience.

The pioneers’ lived experience.

Circa 1862, a time when the Seventh-day Adventist movement was experiencing transitional struggles to establish its identity, Ellen G. White made a fascinating observation: “We cannot be accepted or honored of God in rendering the same service, or doing the same works, that our fathers did. In order to be accepted and blessed of God as they [the forerunners of her generation] were, we must imitate their faithfulness and zeal—improve our light as they improved theirs—and do as they would have done had they lived in our day [emphasis added].” 7 Here, she stressed the interconnected relationship between the past and present. 

Simultaneously, her view highlighted elements of discontinuity concerning sameness as applied to the future present. In her mind, the memory of the past was critical, for it provided essential inspiration necessary for the ongoing progression of faith. This encompassed faithfulness, zeal, and a struggle to shape the contours of faith in the context of its time. However, in her understanding, faith moves beyond the boundaries of established beliefs encoded in the verbal expression of a particular generation, to a living faith relevant to its time and place. 

The depth of such spiritual experience translates into a meaningful contextualization of God’s presence in the fabric of human life, i.e., such a process enhances space for new negotiations, meditation, motivation, and nurturing that, in turn, builds the drive toward a meaningful comprehension of God and the passion of His heart. In this context, I’m not a conservative Seventh-day Adventist, nor a defender of truth, but an open-minded believer endeavoring to make sense of God’s presence in the history and complexity of life TODAY. Does this position make me a liberal Seventh-day Adventist?

Given the expressed thoughts, my understanding of the spiritual journey may align me with the freedom and attitude of liberty that I take to question traditional or orthodox positions and the emerging religious fundamentalism in my faith tradition. However, in the context of religious liberalism, determined to be emancipated from supernatural demands and the authority of the Bible as the source of God’s inspired revelation, I do not view myself as a liberal Seventh-day Adventist. Allow me to share a succinct response.

The history of Seventh-day Adventist heritage suggests that one of the foundational pioneering voices of the movement, Ellen G. White, maintained an open-minded and progressive understanding of God’s revelation. She maintained that growth in understanding God’s grace contributes to a clearer understanding of His Word, but that a decline in spiritual life tends to impact the advancement of truth. Her conclusion was rather enlightening: “Men rest satisfied with the light already received from God’s word and discourage any further investigation of the Scriptures. They become conservative and seek to avoid discussion.” 8 Furthermore, she added, “There is no excuse for anyone taking the position that there is no more truth to be revealed, and that all our exposition of the Scripture (is) without an error. The fact that certain doctrines have been held as truth for many years by our people is not proof that our ideas are infallible.” 9 Recapturing such inspirational guidance encoded in the pages of history motivates me to adopt an open-minded, progressive, and liberal approach to my understanding of God. 

But more to the point, an essential question requiring attention is: Am I identified as Christian, a follower of Jesus? In this context, Ellen G. White challenged the Church to recapture the memory of Jesus’ story as a historical event and a transformational motivator oriented toward the future. She wrote, “To all who profess to be Seventh-day Adventists, I would say, ‘You are entitled to the name of Christian only as you employ your talents in harmony with the plan of the Lord Jesus Christ, only as you are co-workers with God. The life of Christ is the only pattern that is safe for us to follow.’ ” 10  The outlined focus on a faith-oriented relationship with Jesus impacts my view of the origins of human life—its present purpose—and imparts my life with hope, providing a sense of security and inspirational motivation to embrace life’s journey with a renewed view of God that always is open to a deeper understanding of His love. 

A relationship with Jesus imparts boldness to relinquish status-quo traditions to embrace a contextualized and refreshed, but biblically grounded meaning of faith. It transforms the concept of leadership influence from a defensive, prescriptively authoritarian, and informative mode to an inspirational voice calling on people to visualize the incomprehensible benefits of God’s kingdom of grace. Thus, I wouldn’t say I appreciate being labeled as conservative or liberal, for primarily, I identify as a Christian, a Seventh-day Adventist, an open-minded believer, and a progressive thinker on a journey of faith with Jesus. 

John Skrzypaszek, DMin, a retired director of the Ellen White/Seventh-day Adventist Research Centre, is an adjunct senior lecturer at Avondale University College, Coranboong, NSW, Australia. Polish by birth, John takes a keen interest in heritage, spirituality, and identity studies. He is married to Brenda and has two sons Raphael and Luke. Email him at: [email protected] 

1 Matthew Quartey, “The Paradox of Conservative Adventism,” https://spectrummagazine.org/views/2020/paradox-conservative-adventism 

2 Ibid.

3 Dale S. Ryan and Jeff VanVonderen, “When Religion Goes Bad: Part 2 Religious Addiction.” https://www.nacr.org/center-for-spirituality-and-recovery/when-religion-goes-bad-part-2-religious-addiction 

4 Hałas, Elżbieta. (2010). “Time and Memory: A Cultural Perspective.” TRAMES, 14(64/59), 314.

5 Ibid.

6 Ibid.

7 Ellen G. White, Testimonies for the Church (Mountain View: CA, 1948), 262.

8 Ellen G. White, Gospel Workers (Washington: D.C.: Review and Herald, 1915), 38.

9 Ellen G. White, “Christ Our Hope” Review and Herald (December 20, 1892), para 1.

10 Ellen G. White, Lt 9, 1905.

31 Jan

GOD, WE BE ADDICTED TO RELIGION?

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I recently watched the story of a Seventh-day Adventist couple in my area who was kicked out of their local Adventist congregation for promoting anti-trinitarian views. The YouTube video had been watched nearly a quarter of a million times, which is an astounding number for an episode that took place in a small congregation in rural Maine. But there is, apparently, an appetite for such stories.

Though I don’t know the couple personally, we share a lot of mutual friends and I know much of the leadership of the church they were nudged out of, including the pastor, whom I consider to be a good friend. They are all really good people, as the couple themselves repeatedly admits in their YouTube “testimony.”

I don’t really know what to make of the whole situation, having questions about the role of church discipline in general and the degree to which we should hold people’s feet to the fire when it comes to theological precision. 

Don’t get me wrong: I’m firmly trinitarian, of course. And I certainly wouldn’t want to reduce this important truth to the realm of theological minutia (though it does seem there’s a line we can cross that enters fully into the sphere of speculation). I’m also aware that, for whatever reason, there continues to be a growing anti-trinitarian faction within the Seventh-day Adventist Church, which is unfortunate.

What struck me the most about the couple’s testimony, perhaps more than anything else, and which I think speaks to the growing trend of anti-trinitarianism within the denomination, was the underlying preoccupation with uncovering some new and novel biblical insights. They were deeply intent on—perhaps even obsessed with—theological correctness.

To me, this is just a symptom of a much larger reality within Adventism—and, in many ways, their experience is just the proverbial chickens coming back to roost.

Adventism is certainly not unique in this, but we have, essentially from our very beginning, emphasized a religious experience that is primarily focused on doctrinal rightness. We mostly stay in our heads and have intellectualized our faith. We have largely turned the Bible into a mathematical equation—literally following the lead of our grandfather William Miller—which we think simply requires rational engagement. We often read the Bible like it’s the Da Vinci Code, with hidden meaning behind every jot and tittle. And then we argue over those jots and titles as though eternity depends on them.

I’m speaking in very broad strokes, of course, and perhaps sounding a bit too cynical. There are many, many wonderful features about this faith community—and I absolutely wouldn’t be a part of any other denomination. 

I believe, by God’s grace, we’re blessed to understand the most beautiful and fullest expression, at least to this point, of God’s character.

But in my 15 years or so of pastoring—and in particular, in my 15 years of pastoring in northern New England, where Adventism essentially began—I’ve noticed that much of Adventism is characterized by a preoccupation with being intellectually and biblically right.

We are, in short, addicted to theological correctness.

Is Religious Addiction a Thing?

Five or six years ago, my friend Jim, who is a pastor-turned-alcohol-and-drug-abuse-counselor, introduced me for the first time to the existence of something he called “religious addiction.” It was a new term for me, but one I found intriguing and clarifying.

Religious addiction, he explained, is when people are overly focused on and obsessed with religious rituals, practices, and beliefs. 

Of course, it’s good to be highly committed to and zealous about our faith. We don’t want to be lukewarm and non-committal, after all. But the real issue with religious addiction is that people cling to and obsess over religious rituals, practices, and beliefs as a way to avoid dealing with deeper emotional and psychological wounds that are too painful to face and process.

This is the nature of addiction in general. People experience trauma, for example, which produces significant shame—and that shame is too painful to acknowledge or process. So as a way of avoiding the feelings of shame, they turn to various substances—drugs, alcohol, sex—which buries those feelings and masks the pain.

Religion, it turns out, has been one of the best tools to help us avoid processing and dealing with our pain. For example, instead of sitting with our shame, and processing the things that have deeply affected us on a psychological and emotional level, we quickly turn to a positive Bible verse that allows us to assure ourselves that everything is going to be okay. Or we use prayer—not as a way to share our feelings of emotional pain and shame to God, but as a way of bypassing those feelings.

Similarly, a religion of the head is also a symptom of religious addiction. The more we can stay in our heads—the more we can argue about theological minutia—the more we can avoid what’s going on deep down inside of us. It’s why the average Sabbath School class, at least in my experience, is an exercise in theological argumentation. It’s just a lot safer that way because if we’re arguing about the Bible, it means we don’t have to be open and vulnerable in the way the Bible wants when it seeks to address our wounds and traumas.

What also happens so often is that people who are converted to faith in general, and Adventism in particular, from an experience that was characterized by substance abuse, are often prone to high religious addiction. Such people just trade one addiction for another. This is also especially true for people who have experienced traumas over which they felt they had no control, since rituals and traditions offer a sense of control.

In laying this out, I hope I’m not giving the impression that I’m immune to any of this or that this is a problem only other people have, as though I’ve reached some sort of superior religious experience. Neither am I wanting to give the impression that rituals, traditions, studying the Bible, or pursuing and being excited about theological insights are wrong. These things are all well and good and important. 

The point, however, is that we must be very intentional about growing three-dimensional disciples who are well-rounded intellectually, physically, socially, and emotionally. We must create spaces that help foster an environment that allows people to openly process what’s truly going on inside—not just discipling people to be in their heads all the time.

As my friend Ty Gibson likes to say: religion is one of the best places to hide from God. It’s also one of the best places to hide from our pain and shame, in unhealthy ways, and to experience “clean” addictions that nevertheless deeply hinder our ability to love our neighbors as ourselves to the degree they need.

It all reminds me of a term Ellen G. White frequently applied to others as she looked over the theological and religious landscape in her day: “fanatics.” This was used in reference to people who were unbalanced in their religious approach, who became obsessive about biblical interpretations, couldn’t consider alternative perspectives, and zealously, annoyingly, and closed-mindedly promoted their viewpoints every opportunity they had.

In one instance, for example, she spoke of a church in Norway that was comprised of members who were “magnifying matters of little importance into tests of Christian fellowship,” displaying a “spirit of criticism, fault-finding, and dissension” over the issue of dress. They were “making the matter of dress of first importance, criticizing articles of dress worn by others, and standing ready to condemn everyone who did not exactly meet their ideas.” Such people, she said, were “fanatics” and “extremists,” “one-idea” people who “can see nothing except to press the one thing that presents itself to their minds,” which ultimately caused the church’s witness to suffer in the surrounding community. “The church,” she boldly proclaimed, “needs to be purified from all such influences” (see Historical Sketches, pp. 211-212).

Though I don’t know that Ellen G. White connected any of this to deeper psychological deficits, I think the connection is clear and obvious. At the same time, I think it would be a mistake to assume that such individuals are outliers or exceptions. It seems to me that precisely because of our nineteenth-century DNA, which places a premium on theological correctness, Adventism is especially prone to produce such an approach to faith—where we become addicted to doctrinal rightness and consequently correct those who don’t get in line. 

The solution to such religious addiction, just as it is for any form of addiction, is prioritizing healthy relationships—with God, with ourselves, and with others. Only as we allow ourselves to be embraced by the gospel, and realize God wants us to be made whole—spiritually, intellectually, socially, emotionally—can we step into freedom.

Shawn Brace is a pastor in Bangor, Maine, whose life, ministry, and writing focus on incarnational expressions of faith. The author of four books and a columnist for Adventist Review, he is also a DPhil student at the University of Oxford, focusing on nineteenth-century American Christianity. You can follow him on Instagram and Twitter @shawnbrace, and sign up for his weekly newsletter at: shawnbrace.substack.com

31 Jan

OUR FUNDAMENTALIST KNOTS

In

Two of the most interesting books of Adventist history published in the past year offer alternative views of the relationship between Adventist faith and fundamentalism. It is one of those arguments that we might be tempted to dismiss as merely academic or primarily semantic, but this topic matters because of the direct connections to many issues we continue to wrestle with in the church today—and also some of the things we don’t wrestle with, that we take for granted as just the way the church or the world is and ought to be.

As a sequel to 1919 and his study of the pivotal Adventist Bible conference of that year, Michael Campbell’s 1922 traces the further development and effects of a turn to Adventist fundamentalism in the 1920s.1 Influenced by similar movements in the wider culture and particularly among Christian churches in the United States, Dr. Campbell argues that key theological, cultural, and even political developments within the Adventist church constituted a significant fundamentalist turn, albeit with some uniquely Adventist features, which has profoundly shaped the development or not of Adventist faith and life in the century since.

Offering an alternative assessment is Ostriches and Canaries2—Gilbert Valentine’s study of the tension between fundamentalists and progressives, between administrators and academics, in the Adventist church in the 1960s and 1970s. Dr. Valentine argues that Seventh-day Adventists have always been fundamentalist, an assumption that has re-asserted itself at key points in Adventist history including the 1920s and 1930s, the 1970s and 1980s, and perhaps again in the past decade. Of course, this paints early Adventists as proto fundamentalists, given that the term only came into common usage with the larger cultural trends of the early part of the 20th century, but the argument is that key planks of fundamentalism, such as the inerrancy of the Bible, were assumed by many of the earliest Adventist pioneers and have been largely maintained throughout out most of Adventist history.

Perhaps I am exposing my Adventist nerd-dom, but I find it an intriguing point for friendly debate. There is a sense in which both perspectives are helpful to our understanding. Putting aside questions around the use of terminology, there was the possibility and practice of fundamentalism in our earliest Adventist thinking, but there are aspects of our Adventist fundamentalism that were not possible until the 1920s. There might also be a recency bias in this assessment, but it seems that our fundamentalist turn 100 years ago has had a more profound influence on what Adventism is today and—perhaps more significantly—what it is not.

The History Between

The history between Adventism’s proto-fundamentalism and the turn toward fundamentalism in the early part of the 20th century was spanned and guided by the ministry of Ellen G. White. Her life and work gave Adventists an up-close perspective on key questions of inspiration, demonstrating how God works through people to speak and guide in the community of His people. The presence of this phenomenon affirmed the reality of inspirational influence, reminded them of how it could be awkward and confronting, and guarded against the excesses of expectations of inerrancy. At least it should have—and then Ellen G. White was working among them to offer a corrective voice, as needed.

Looking back on Ellen G. White’s ministry and experience, it is also possible to trace the maturation of her spirituality, thinking, and leadership. In some aspects, this was sketched a few years ago in Alden Thompson’s book Escape From the Flames3 and it is a theme that has seen more academic attention in recent years. It can also be observed anecdotally in surveying Ellen G. White’s books and the growing focusing on the centrality of Jesus to our Adventist faith in her writing of her later decades, particularly the 1890s and 1900s.

Unquestionably, Ellen G. White urged and maintained a high view and understanding of the Bible. As General Conference president A.G. Daniells summarized her work and focus in his eulogy at her funeral in 1915—perhaps with some hyperbole—“No Christian teacher in this generation, no religious reformer in any preceding age, has placed a higher value upon the Bible … . Those who still believe that the Bible is the inspired, infallible word of the living God will value most highly the positive, uncompromising support given this view in the writings of Mrs. White.” 4

However, the early Adventists also sought what they described as “present truth,” expecting that they would continue to learn and seeking to apply biblical principles to the changing realities of their times and places in ways that would be practical and transformative. This was an approach to truth and its practices also championed by Ellen G. White. Quoting Daniells’ eulogy again: “Through the light and counsel given her, Mrs. White held and advocated broad, progressive views regarding vital questions that affect the betterment and uplift of the human family, from the moral, intellectual, physical, and social standpoint as well as the spiritual.” 5

This perpetual seeking after and progressive application of truth was a substantial moderation of Adventism’s proto-fundamentalist assumptions, leading them away from the narrow certitude of its earliest days. It was only after Ellen G. White’s death—with her matured, Christ-centred, progressive voice diminished—that a turn to 20th-century fundamentalism was possible. We could have responded differently to the questions and pressures of the 1920s, but this was a turn that caused the most damage to the ongoing influence and legacy of even Ellen G. White’s ministry, as both her fiercest supporters and harshest critics demanded yet more from her writings. This was a turn that continues to shape the church today.

A Conservative Progressive Church

While there is a spectrum of thought, belief, and practice within the Adventist community, this entire spectrum fits firmly within a small slice of the conservative spectrum of the larger Christian world. When we are arguing about different ways of reading and applying Bible verses, it is almost always a conservative position arguing with a more conservative position. But the tendency, temptation, and turn to fundamentalism have stifled our ability to think broadly and engage positively with social issues and needs in the world around us.

Our drift toward fundamentalism has led us to spend undue time defending not so much the indefensible, but the unnecessary. In “defending” both the Bible and the writings of Ellen G. White, apologists have mounted elaborate and sometimes disingenuous arguments that have created ever more problems, twisting ourselves into fundamentalist knots.6 This tendency has also seen our public witness too often co-opted by conservative political assumptions and attitudes.

By nature, we are a conservative church. But to be most true to our tradition, we are also called to be progressive, in learning and in responding to the world around us, and in including everyone we can in the invitation of God (see Revelation 14:6). If this sounds like mere academic debate or even just an argument about defining technical terms, it might be because we have not yet put what we say we believe into practice and set about that humble task of changing the world. As Ellen G. White herself put it, “If God’s word were studied as it should be, men would have a breadth of mind, a nobility of character, and a stability of purpose rarely seen in these times.” 7

In the 1920s, we had a choice to be different; in the 2020s, we have a choice to make a difference.

Nathan Brown is a writer and editor at Signs Publishing near Melbourne, Australia. Email him at: [email protected]

1 Michael Campbell, 1922: The Rise of Adventist Fundamentalism, Pacific Press Publishing Association, 2022.

2 Gilbert Valentine, Ostriches and Canaries: Coping with Change in Adventism, 1966-1979, Oak & Acorn Publishing, 2022.

3 Alden Thompson, Escape from the Flames, Pacific Press Publishing Association, 2005.

4 Life Sketches of Ellen G White, p. 471.

5 Life Sketches of Ellen G White, p. 473.

6 For example, consider the defense of slavery as part of making a case against the ordination of women as happened in the Theology of Ordination Study Committee or see an examination of another example of this tendency: Ronald Osborn, “True Blood: Race, Science, and Early Adventist Amalgamation Theory Revisited,” Spectrum Magazine, Vol 38, No 4, Fall 2010.

7 Steps to Christ, p. 90.

31 Jan

EDITORIAL: WHAT IS THE BASIS OF YOUR FAITH, IF NOT JESUS?

In

There’s an old story about a parishioner who met their pastor at the door of the church after a particularly strong sermon he had just preached on grace. The parishioner’s comment was telling: “So when are you going to preach the other side?”

The story doesn’t tell how the pastor reacted to that question, but it might be that his reaction was similar to mine when an elder of my church met me at the door during a series of sermons I’d been preaching directly out of the Gospels about Jesus, His life, His ministry, and His love for us. The elder asked: “Can’t you preach about something other than Jesus for a while?”

I was still pretty young in ministry at the time, and I had no idea that a member, an elder in our church, a faithful one who genuinely loved the church and its members, could ever ask me something like that. Made me wonder, “then what is the basis of your faith, if not Jesus? If it is truly Him, wouldn’t you want to hear everything about Him that can be learned?”

The Pharisee and rabbinic orders of New Testament times were experts in the practice of religion. Jesus noted that many times in the Gospels, and not a single time was it meant as a compliment. It’s a curious fact that the only group that received stern warnings and words from Jesus were from this class—the professionally religious of His day. They had the “form of godliness, but not its power.” And how could that be?

That can only come from one thing: when the things and trappings of religion become more important than the person, life, and work of the Lord Jesus Christ. When they do, inevitably the person who is consumed by the trappings begins to judge both themselves and others by what is most important to them. It becomes their life’s passion to master the trappings. The snare here is that most of the trappings are good things. Sometimes even important things. But they are still trappings. They are not the center.

All other religions are based on the human journey toward God. Only Christianity is about God’s search for us. That started in the cool of the day in the Garden of Eden when He came looking for Adam and Eve only to find them hiding. Sin caused such irreparable separation that we’d never know how to reach God were it not for Jesus. He found us so that we may find Him. He chose us so that we may choose Him.

The trappings of religion are a mere substitute for a personal relationship with Jesus. Humans can easily fall into the trap of thinking that once we’ve mastered the trappings, we think we’ve mastered religion and therefore, salvation. To simply believe seems just too simple. 

I leave you with a test to see where your focus is. I quoted these sentences from Steps to Christ during my worship at our constituency session last August. Perhaps you can use them as your own gauge to see if you are focused on a Person or something else:

“Who has the heart? With whom are our thoughts? Of whom do we love to converse? Who has our warmest affections and our best energies? If we are Christ’s, our thoughts are with Him, and our sweetest thoughts are of Him. All we have and are is consecrated to Him. We long to bear His image, breathe His spirit, do His will, and please Him in all things.” (p. 58).

Mic Thurber is the RMC president. Email him at: [email protected]

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